


the sound of the unlocking and lift away

by porcelain



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I can't help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelain/pseuds/porcelain
Summary: Their hands touch on accident; words evaporate in the stillness of the night and suddenly Derek kisses her, soft lips on her own unusually chapped ones. Their tongues fit just like pieces to a jigsaw puzzle and she is surprised. It feels natural.
Relationships: Casey McDonald & Derek Venturi, Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	the sound of the unlocking and lift away

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are loved ❤️

Sometimes Casey wonders who she’s trying to convince.

It’s quiet the night they’re alone: an uneventful Saturday with the house finally asleep, tv murmuring in the background. Their hands touch on accident; words evaporate in the stillness of the night and suddenly Derek kisses her, soft lips on her own unusually chapped ones. Their tongues fit just like pieces to a jigsaw puzzle and she is surprised. It feels natural. For once, she believes that she’s where she belongs and everything is normal and no one will get hurt and—

Casey stops. She pulls herself away and if it was anyone else but her looking at him they’d never be able to tell that he was hurt. But then she looks away, staring straight ahead at the television.

“I can’t,” she whispers. “We can’t.” She doesn’t know how she expects Derek to reply, or if he even will react at all, but he does, not pausing a beat.

“Okay.” 

Cheeks heated, she looks up to find Derek with an uncharacteristic soft, sad smile. Maybe she was expecting an angry face or his petulant words. Casey wants to say that she doesn’t mean to hurt him and she’s so sorry, and she also wants to scream at him and wonder why he’s being so fucking _understanding_. She wants to tell him that she never stops thinking about kissing him, that she thinks about him all day long, that she steals glances at him when his shirt rides up and she wants to just touch him without fear, for once. 

But she can’t. 

So she doesn’t even say that she’s sorry. She runs back to her room, into her bed and counts to fifty, with the hopes that she’ll quickly fall asleep and wake up and find that it was all a very realistic, very unfortunate dream.

  


**

  
Days turn into weeks. Every moment is filled with the kind of tension you could cut with only a chainsaw whenever they are both in the same room. Of course, the family doesn’t notice—it’s just Casey and Derek being, well, Casey and Derek. 

She thinks to herself how he resembles a stone pillar in a way. Derek is unfaltering. He does his best to keep things normal, throwing little jabs at her to which she responds to “in character”. He doesn’t go out of his way to avoid her, like she does. But during dinner, he makes sure his hands don’t touch hers when he passes her the pepper. It’s obvious only then how hurt he really is. 

She’s sitting on the couch in their living room watching some lame reality show when he comes home from hockey practice. 

“Case,” he acknowledges as he throws his bag onto the ground without grace. He wiggles a can of diet coke at her. “It’s hot today, want one?” He’s trying his hand at being a friendly step-brother today. That’s a step above fighting and a step below tongue fucking. She’ll take it.

“Yeah, sure,” she says, catching the can from him. She cracks it open and listens to it fizz for a moment. “Can you check the ac? I’m melting.” She makes a show of fanning himself and lolling out his tongue. Playful. She’s being funny. And that’s a step above her avoiding him. 

Derek rolls his eyes and says something about her being lazy, but he goes and he checks. A few beeps and boops and he readjusts the temperature, bringing the room to a pleasurable breeze. She immediately feels chills creeping up her neck. Derek then casually flops down on the couch and that’s when things get weird.

This is why she avoids him. Because things are _bound_ to get weird like this. because every time they get close, they can both feel it. The tingles. The smallest of touches teaming with electricity. She wants to avoid him as much as she can, but they live in the same house. Their rooms are right next to each other. They share the bathroom. They eat dinner together. And they only have one couch.

It’s fine, she tells herself, they’re just watching tv. Like normal step-siblings do.

So they watch tv for a few minutes in silence, shoulders stiff and awkward. After awhile Casey comes to the conclusion that okay, this time is normal, no funny stuff is going to happen _(just relax)._ Derek shifts his body unintentionally. Their thighs touch and then he yawns, and he stretches his arms over his head and this is such an innocent move but then, god damn it. His right arm is resting behind her head and he’s just so close _(too close)._

He groans, “What the hell are we watching? This is so _boring_.”

“Then change the channel if you don’t like it.” Casey snaps at him.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He leans over to grab the remote that’s resting on her side of the couch and this time he really is too close. She can _smell_ him, a mix of sweat and leather and something else that she can’t put her finger on. It’s not something you can get in a cologne bottle, it’s natural and musky and it’s all _Derek_. And if she was Pinnochio and said that she didn’t like it, her nose would be 200 inches long, because god, she does, and all she wants to do right then is bury her nose into his neck.

No no no, she does _not_ want to do that.

Once Derek gets a hold of the remote he leans back and gets into his previous position, comfortably laid back on the couch and flips through the channels with a satisfied grin on his lips. “Now this is more like it,” he says, stopping on a sports channel.

She scoffs. Of course he chooses a sports channel, but like hell if she’s going to sit through another one of his testosterone laden hockey games. “Derek, _this_ is boring. You just got done playing hockey and now you want to watch it too?”

“I thought you commanded me to change the channel, didn’t you?” he smirks, eyebrow raised.

“I did—but—just hand it over!” She slaps his shoulder before reaching out to retrieve the control. “I didn’t say to change it to something so obvious.”

“Right,” he deadpans. Derek is stretching his arm back as far as possible away from her, too caught in the innocence of the moment to hold back from voicing what should have remained as subconscious. “ _Right_. Sorry. I forgot. You _hate_ the obvious. That’s why you always make obvious things so complicated.”

Casey is having a good time, she really is, or was starting to, at least. She was starting to convince herself that things could start to blend back to safer shores. She wonders, as the shock of understanding falls evidently on her own face, how thought up scenarios are nothing when seen through in actuality. The roles reverse when the rage she had tried to submerge this entire time bursts as she storms up to her room, leaving her half drank coke behind.

“Wait, Casey, I didn’t—”

Derek is left sitting on the couch, gaping face contemplating between regret and biting irony as a door slams in the distance.

  


**

Sometimes Derek questions why he’s still holding on.

“Alright, alright, let’s not make a big show out of it, even though I know you’re going to miss me like hell.”

“But we’re just _so_ proud of you, Derek.” Norah gushes, while George nods in agreement. 

The whole family is all at the front door set to say goodbye to Derek as he goes for a month summer program at Queens. He’s not usually in the business of working hard, especially when it’s supposed to be vacation time, but if he’s lucky, he might score a grant for the next year. And before he can do the damaging obvious of looking straight at Casey to see her reaction, Marti pipes up proudly.

_“_ Well _I’m_ going to miss you the most! And then Casey will be the second most!”

His actions betray his inner turmoil in an instinctive way. He’s looking to her for a normal Casey smile, for the warm eyes of safety and protection and nothing has ever been as cold as the blank stare he is faced with.

“As if!” she laughs incredulously. “Miss you? More like missing the peace and quiet I won’t have when you come back.” 

“See?” Derek shrugs. 

Everyone laughs and Casey rolls her eyes, playing along and it’s only now that she sees first hand what deceiving magic a vacant laugh can hold.

  


**  
  


  


The time away from home is an eternity that Derek decides not to keep track of. He pours everything into his games and in the off moments he fills his time with whatever he can. Whether it’s passing hours on the track running or sitting in the library _imagining_ himself reading a book, he makes sure it’s just him.

How long he’s been at the summer program, he doesn’t remember—he isn’t counting—but he’s surprised to see Edwin and his dad show up one random weekend. He’s also surprised that Casey doesn’t show up, even though she had talked about touring this college months ago. He figures they'll all come for his last game, so he doesn't dwell on it.

After winning the match and going out for dinner, his dad heads back to the hotel and Edwin insists on staying back to play a game of basketball with him. 

“I don’t think racoon eyes are a good look for you dude,” Edwin shouts, missing his shot. “But Casey seems to be picking up this new trend too.” Derek almost falters, almost—but he feigns it by fumbling the ball between himself a bit before aiming. “I can’t wait for you to get home. I think Casey is bored and going stir crazy or something, she’s starting to hate all of us now.”

“She doesn’t hate any of you. Just me.” He finally replies, shouting at the net.

“Well, yeah, she doesn’t _hate_ you either. Not that much anyway. I think she _misses_ you actually.”

Derek shoots. He doesn’t score.

  


**

Casey shouldn’t be used to it, every encounter making her feel that much more estranged, but she is. Marti runs past her in the hallway spilling glitter all over the floor. Casey grits her teeth in annoyance as she makes her way to the kitchen. She’s had a sore throat for days, so she’s dying for some hot tea. She boils some water, before turning around to stare at Edwin at the table behind her. Her head tilts, eyes narrowing slightly as she puts her arms on the counter and focuses on his glass of milk.

She’s observing him in place of the empty gap, the _missing_ that she’s feeling in the air. 

Milk dribbling down the corners of Edwin’s mouth—long ignored and with one direction—is a silent testament to the void where these feelings are and aren’t and should never again be. With a deep breath, Casey blinks hard (an after thought of sleepless nights) and pushes herself off the table.

“You are _so_ disgusting.”

“....What?”

She unkindly slaps a napkin at Edwin’s milk-moistened mouth, then grabs her keys and makes her way out the front door. She figures it’s anything but safe now, that admitting what was there all along is fucking _scary_. She hasn’t felt genuinely frightened for a while, not since her day in this house, and now, at the edge of love’s cliff, she might as well not be wearing any safety gear at all. Because this is terrifying and she _doesn’t know what to do_.

** 

  
  
**edwin** : _1/2_ sooo spacey flipped out on marti for stealing her glue gun n also she won’t let us buy milk now??? norah 

**Sent: 1 minute ago**

**edwin** : _2/2_ n dad think she might be upset that u have a grant n she doesnt but im not sure i buy it. Also im sick as HELL bro i better not have gotten it from U

**Sent: 1 minute ago**

** 

  


The last game of the summer season and Casey isn’t there.

Actually, no one's there; Edwin is sick with the flu, Lizzie is busy with summer school and Marti is busy with her girl scouts, Norah's busy with all of that shit and his dad is actually in Toronto for some client. So he scores the last shot of the game and then he’s out the rink, uniform off and teeth grit in disappointment. His dad calls from his locker and tries to apologize, but Derek cuts him off and say he's nauseous really, and it wasn't even a very good game, so he's going to go to bed now. George, in his easygoing style, doesn’t question it, and tells him to enjoy his last weekend there.

The very next day, Derek’s in the back of a bus, going home one night earlier than he planned because he lied to his coach and said that there was a family emergency and they had finished all their games and he might as well. So with a couple pats on the back from his friends _(“Next year we’re doing a rematch, Brett is still sore about you beating him in that last game!”)_ he’s off. Derek has a small, funny thought as he re-reads the text he receives from his brother. He knows the man that he wants to be and the stupid coward he is not, despite being one up until now. Men cry too, even when they want to be strong. So he lets a sniffle escape, the accumulation of emotional built up in the form of a tear or two, and suddenly he is back home. It’s just after 11pm when his bus drops him off and he quietly makes his way into the house. 

Derek sighs in the darkness and doesn’t even bother turning on the lights. He’s hungry. So he goes straight for the fridge when he notices that, there _really_ isn’t any milk. He chuckles and then a cough takes all of his attention.

“Oh, Edwin, can you pass me the hone—Derek?” It’s Casey, and she’s in her ridiculous satin pink rabbit pajamas, nose red and eyes puffy. “Oh. _Derek_. I’m sick. I didn’t go because I’m sick—Derek—” Before he could mutter relief or guilt, he buries himself in the nest of her scorching hot neck, the heat enveloping him like a loving hug.

“I’m such a—I’m sorr—I don’t, I’m—” she keeps stuttering, and he cuts her off.

“It’s okay.”

“Don’t leave me again.” she says (no, _begs)_ as his lips trail up her neck, sending chills that have nothing to do with her cold.

“I won’t, Casey, I don’t want to,” he says, and it's all he should say. It’s enough but he adds what he's been feeling all along, insecurities and carefulness thrown out to be forgotten. "I’m here. And I’m good for you, Casey. I can give you so much. You know I can." He finishes, barely above a whisper as his lips press at her collarbone.

“I know. You’ve waited and yet I...I keep.” Casey’s closes her eyes, giving up on words altogether.

“I said, I’m here, idiot.” His hand falters for just a moment before pressing his palm on her chest, right on her heart, thumb idling. “And you’re here too. That’s all I need to know.”

She throws her arms around his neck, lips gliding over his in a frenzy, unrelenting as he pushes into her. Derek nips at her mouth, unafraid as she holds back her groans. “I’m all sick and gross,” she tries to reason in between kisses. 

He licks her top lip. “Sick yes, gross definitely not.” 

She hooks her hands into his belt loops and sighs, “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, I know,” Derek says, one eyebrow cocked. “No milk? Really, Case? We’ve got a dictatorship on dairy now?”

“If you’d only seen what I’d seen,” she shuddered.

“I know what I see right now,” he says with all sincerity, pulling back from her. Before Casey can say “aww,” the tea kettle goes off with a _hiss_ and he continues. “A _very_ sick, _frustrating_ girl that I am dumb fucking head over heels with. Let’s get you to bed, before you pass out and they blame it on me.”

Derek holds her tea up the stairs and down the hallway to her bedroom until she stops at her door to give him one last look before she sinks into the first deep satisfying sleep she’s had in weeks. “I love you, too, Derek.”

“Too? Oh, did I say I love you?” he grins.

“Der-rek!” she rolls her eyes. 

He doesn’t reply, but he does lean down to kiss her one final time that night; this time sweetly, gently, as to not make a sound, like they are sharing a secret that they will never tell, and maybe they really won’t. But that’s okay, because it’s a secret that they can both share, together, him as the lock and her as the key. Fitting together just so. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I did.”

**

  


**_This is not the sound of a_**

**_new man or crispy realization;_**

**_It's the sound of the unlocking_**

**_and the lift away_ ; _your love_**

**_will be safe with me._**

[**Bon Iver -- Re:stacks**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhDnyPsQsB0)  
  
---


End file.
